


The Peace of the Storm

by CaffieneKitty



Category: The Great Mouse Detective (1986)
Genre: Community: watsons_woes, Introspection, Light Angst, Movie Reference, Storms, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 20:43:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19471834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffieneKitty/pseuds/CaffieneKitty
Summary: Doctor David Q. Dawson sat, cozy in his chair by the fire as the storm howled and crashed outside.





	The Peace of the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [watsons_woes](https://watsons-woes.dreamwidth.org/) [2019 July Writing Prompt #3 - Bloody weather!](https://watsons-woes.dreamwidth.org/1909226.html).

Doctor David Q. Dawson sat, cozy in his chair by the fire as the storm howled and crashed outside. Mrs Judson had brought in scones and jam and a fresh pot of tea. Aside from the noise of the storm, it was quiet enough to hear the ticking of a pocket watch. All should be right with his world. But....

Lightning flashed in the windows. Dawson huffed and looked again at the door.

 _Not a fit night out for mouse-kind. Not even over-exuberant mouse detectives._ Dawson put down his tea. _Haven't had a storm like this since- Well. Since the Jubilee. During the business with that dastardly fiend Ratigan. Us flying in that daft balloon-_

His newly-found friend beaten, tackled, clawed. Falling from the hands of Big Ben, then falling again as the hour rung out, as Ratigan caught him and pulled them down together into the mists far below. Olivia, the little mouselet they'd rescued, turning her face into her toymaker father's chest to cry....

Dawson harrumphed. _Regardless. It all worked out in the end, didn't it?_

The ticking of that pocket watch was becoming oppressive.

 _Where_ is _he?_

Just then there was a ferocious thud. The door rattled on its hinges before blowing wide open, allowing entry to a madly grinning, thoroughly bedraggled detective.

"Dawson!" Basil cried, carrying what looked to be a human child's sock, crammed full of noisome things no doubt.

Dawson stopped to push the door shut and throw the bolt. "Mrs Judson will not be best pleased, Basil."

"Pft! Mrs Judson has absolutely no appreciation of storm drain effluvia." Basil said, waving dismissively as he dumped the oozing contents of the sock onto the floor.

Dawson shook his head, and smiled. _Now_ all was right with the world.

-.-.-

(that's it)


End file.
